


A Tree Planted by the Waters

by nurselaney



Series: Plant yourself like a tree [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Jewish Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 23:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7457220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nurselaney/pseuds/nurselaney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Maria and I’ve recruited someone for your team.”</p><p>“Team? What team?” Steve tries to sound casual but all it does is make Natasha laugh louder. “How do you -?”</p><p>“You’re a terrible liar, Steve.” Natasha is smiling that wry grin of hers, he can hear it in her voice. “And I’m a spy. It’s kind of my job to know these things.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tree Planted by the Waters

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bhav on tumblr.  
> Title from Jeremiah 17:8 “For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, that spreadeth out its roots by the river, and shall not fear when heat cometh, but its leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit.”

Natasha calls him out of the blue on the burner cell that had appeared in his backpack after they’d run into each other at an old Hydra  
base. He and Sam had been looking for clues that might lead them and T’Challa’s scientists to an answer for Bucky, she’d been there for her own reasons which she hadn’t divulged. The Black Widow did love her secrets.

“Maria and I’ve recruited someone for your team.”

“Team? What team?” Steve tries to sound casual but all it does is make Natasha laugh louder. “How do you -?”

“You’re a _terrible_ liar, Steve.” Natasha is smiling that wry grin of hers, he can hear it in her voice. “And I’m a spy. It’s kind of my job to know these things.”

Steve sighs and takes his beans and rice out of the microwave. Sam had taken it upon himself to be the cook and he always made sure that there were leftovers in case he wasn’t available to make dinner. Steve is, according to Sam, a “ _Pathetic white boy who would probably starve to death if it wasn’t for me. I mean God, Steve. The kind of shit you think is edible is appalling_.”

“So I’m assuming this means Tony knows as well? Or no?”

“Of course Tony doesn’t know. Pepper, however, does know and as you are well aware is planning on funding your little operation.”

“Which is why you and Maria are recruiting for me without bothering to tell me.” Steve says, swallowing a mouthful of food.

“Oh, I think you’ll like this one.” The grin is back, as well as the tone of voice that always means trouble for Steve. “Tell Sharon I said hi when you see her tomorrow. Her plane lands at 11.”

Steve chokes and gasps and by the time he’s capable of speaking again, Natasha has hung up the phone.

He stares down at the tiny screen with his mouth open and his head spinning. The last time he’d seen Sharon he’d kissed her before heading out to faceoff with Tony at the airport. She’d been soft and strong in his arms and he hadn’t wanted to let her go. She’d seemed surprised by the kiss, not quite meeting his eye as she laughed after he’d released her.

As Bucky had said when Steve returned to the car, “Punk, you have the _worst_ timing.”

Steve takes a deep breath. It’s not that he hasn’t thought about her, _worried_ about her, since Germany. He just hadn’t considered the fact that they would actually see each other again.

He needs to inform T’Challa of Sharon’s arrival, the King would need to prepare for her stay. With that thought, Steve decides to put aside the boiling emotions that threaten to overwhelm him and focus on what needs to be done. His feelings for Sharon can be evaluated later, he has work to do right now.

* * *

Having never been to Wakanda, Sharon hadn’t really known what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t the wall of fog covered jungle she sees now as she disembarks from the cargo hold of the small transport plane she’s spent the better part of ten hours in. She also wasn’t expecting to be met by a trio of very formidable looking Wakandan women, the leader of whom she recognized as one of King T’Challa’s bodyguards.

“Agent Carter, Welcome to Wakanda.” The Woman says as she steps forward to greet her, a stern look on her face. Sharon thinks that this woman could give Melinda May a run for her money in the “most terrifying” department. “My name is Nakia, I am King T’Challa’s personal aid. King T’Challa has arranged for you to be housed at the palace. However, as a foreigner entering our land, you must be searched along with your luggage before entering the palace grounds. You understand, of course, why this must be.”

Sharon takes a deep breath and straightens up, “Of course, I am grateful to King T’Challa and the people of Wakanda for allowing me to enter this country and I will submit to whatever inspection you deem necessary.”

Sharon finds herself escorted into a non-descript black car which then drives roughly thirty minutes up into the mountains. They stop at what appears to be a gatehouse where Sharon is escorted inside and searched along with her small suitcase. From there she’s driven through the front gate into the courtyard of what is most definitely The Palace. She steps out of the car and is greeted by the stunning view from the overlook the courtyard sits on. The green jungle stretches out for miles, covered in mist. 

“Agent Carter.”

Sharon turns back to see Nakia waiting for her at the foot of the palace steps. It’s then that Sharon sees the two giant black panther sculptures guarding the courtyard. “Oh…wow…” She breathes as she picks up her case and tries not to look like a stunned tourist as she follows Nakia through the door. 

* * *

The room Nakia shows her to is…bigger than her first apartment. Sharon’s jaw drops for a second, just a second, before she snaps it shut and turns to smile at the Dora Milaje beside her. 

“This is more than I expected, thank you.”

Nakia merely raises an eyebrow.

“King T’Challa has invited you to dine with him and a few of your new team members this evening. Dinner will be at 7. Someone will arrive beforehand to escort you to the dining hall.” The taller woman steps back and moves to exit the room, “I will leave you to your unpacking.”

Sharon sighs as the door shuts behind her and giddily shucks off her shoes before throwing herself onto the king-size bed.

“Oh my _god_ …” she moans into the soft, downy comforter, “Oh, thank _fuck_. My good karma must be _finally_ catching up with me.”

* * *

It’s difficult to pull herself away from what is quite frankly, the most beautiful, gloriously soft bed she’s seen in _months_. When she finally gets up, she heads to the bathroom to freshen up before she begins unpacking.

Sharon’s placing the last of her clothes into the dresser when she hears a soft knocking at the door. She opens the door and her chest lurches when she sees Steve standing there in all his American golden boy glory. 

“Steve…what a surprise.” She says truthfully. She’d known that they would probably see each other, she just hadn’t expected to see him so soon.

Steve’s cheeks flush as he smiles that slow grin at her. “Sharon. Nat called last night to inform me that she and Maria had recruited you. Gotta say, I was a bit surprised myself.” 

Sharon feels her eyebrows raise, “ _Nat_ called?”

“Yeah,” Steve huffs out a laugh as he rubs at the back of his neck, “She um… kind of took me by surprise too.”

“Well…” Sharon eyes him up for a moment. He looks good. Less stressed than he had looked the last time she’d seen him, but then, he’d been on the verge of committing treason. “Do you want to come in or?”

Steve’s eyes widen and then he stutters beautifully, waving his hands about nervously. “Oh no…no…I was um…coming to see if you wanted a tour before dinner.” 

She’d forgotten about how adorably awkward he could be sometimes. “I’d like that.”

* * *

They’ve seen the whole of the palace and moved on to the gardens when Sharon finally asks him.

“So…how are things with Bucky?”

Steve face says it all before he even speaks. “He’s back in cryo.” Sharon stops short, she wasn’t expecting that. Steve sighs and turns to face her. “It’s what he wanted. I wanted to convince him not to do it but…Sam said that after everything he’s been through, he deserves the right to make his own choices.”

“Why? Why did he want it?” Sharon asks.

“The triggers. T’Challa’s scientists are looking for a way to remove them from his brain, but until then, he’s chosen to stay frozen where no one can use him to hurt anyone.” Steve sighs and runs his hand through his hair, “His words, not mine.”

Sharon reaches out to place a comforting hand on his arm, squeezes a moment before turning to look out over the gardens.

“Al tadin et cha’vercha ad she’tagia lim’komo.” She says softly, the words her grandmother had often spoken falling casually from her lips.

“What?” Steve gasps, looking almost stricken.

“Sorry! Sorry, it’s just… something my grandmother used to say.” Sharon says apologetically. “It’s Hebrew, it means ‘Do not judge – ‘“

“- Your friend until you stand in his place.” Steve finishes. “Bucky’s ma was Romanian Jewish. Her family came over through Ellis Island when she was nine. She used…she used to say a lot of those things…”

“I didn’t know Bucky was Jewish.” Sharon wonders that that specific anecdote never made the history books.

“Well, his ma married a Catholic and had to convert. She still spoke Hebrew at home sometimes, and of course the proverbs… a couple of people in the neighborhood still whispered about her but beyond that no one said anything.” Steve sighs, “I never really asked him if he considered himself Jewish… I suppose there are some people who would say he is regardless of whether or not he does.”

Sharon smiles wryly, “Yeah, my Dad was never practicing and he married a Methodist, but he was very involved with the Jewish community and the Shoah foundation up until he died. I grew up hearing about my heritage but…when Mom and Dad died I just… lost my way a little I guess you could say.”

Steve smiles at her for a moment and then they’re quiet until Sharon speaks again.

“There was another proverb Grandma Esther used to say: ‘It is not your responsibility to finish the work, but you are not free to desist from it either.’”

Steve raises an eyebrow at her and she hurries to explain. “I didn’t come here for Captain America, Steve, I came because Aunt Peggy and my grandmother taught me to stand up for what I believe in, to do the right thing, and to see a job through till the end.” She’s fidgeting with her hands, wishing she had something to hold onto, “I grew up hearing stories about a young man named Steve Rogers who threw himself on a grenade to save the lives of others, who had courage and compassion, who my aunt believed to be the embodiment of truth and justice and that… that is the person I’m following.” She finally looks him in the eye. “I just…wanted you to know that.” She finishes lamely, feeling bare and open in a way she hasn’t felt in a while. Steve is looking at her in a way that makes heat curl through her from the top of her head down to her toes.

Steve reaches out to take her hand in his. “Thank you, Sharon.”

They stand there in comfortable silence until a shout of Steve’s name pulls them out of their reverie. 

“There you two are, it’s time for dinner Steve. His Majesty awaits us in the dining room, or at least that’s what scary lady number two told me just now.” Sam says with a grin as he rounds the corner to find them. “Agent Carter, always a pleasure.”

“Mr. Wilson, it’s good to see you again.” 

Sam looks between the two of them, Sharon blushing while trying desperately not to look like it and Steve looking anywhere but at the two of them, his face red from his hairline to his collar.

“Okay. So. I’ll meet you guys in the dining room.” He says and turns around and walks swiftly back toward the palace.

Steve looks sheepishly at Sharon, “So, is it alright if I escort you to dinner?”

Sharon smiles, “I’d like that.”


End file.
